


Standing by the Wishing Well

by HartwinMakethMan



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Hartwin, I LOVE FAIRYTALES, It physically hurts me for Charlie to be a villain, M/M, Snow White AU, There are only four dwarves (five if you count JB), fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:45:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HartwinMakethMan/pseuds/HartwinMakethMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Snow White and the Seven Dwarves-- just Kngsman-ified, and better. :) </p>
<p>(Better than it's summary, I promise.) </p>
<p>Snow White: Eggsy<br/>Prince: Harry </p>
<p>Evil Royalty: Chester and Charlie<br/>Henchman: Dean</p>
<p>Dwarves (Miners): Merlin, Roxy, James (Lancelot), and Percival (and JB, by association)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom built up in a beautiful, enchanted forest called the Black Wood. It was ruled by a capricious king, torn apart by grief and greed and prejudice. King Chester had two children, a Prince and heir, and a Princess to continue the bloodline. Kingdom elders would say that Chester used to be a just, if a bit aloof, young Prince, who was fair and free to smile. His son soon married a young Princess from another kingdom, and they had a baby boy named Charles. The king glowed with pride for the squalling little grandchild, but it didn’t last.

His son and daughter-in-law were killed in a freak carriage accident, leaving their only child in the care of The Crown. The loss seemed to break King Chester, weighed down by his grief as he aged and grew meaner and colder. The last glimmer of hope for his kingdom seemed to be with his Princess, Michelle.

He planned to wed her to the Prince of Savile, a massive neighboring kingdom with extensive eastern trade, but Michelle was horrified by the prospect of marrying any other than her true love– the Master of the King’s Guard, a man named Lee Unwin. The pair had met in secret for months, only communicating in dead of night, hiding in the shadows of the courtyard garden. When Chester learned of this he was livid, forbidding the lovers to ever see each other again. Rebellious and tired of her father’s discrimination to common folk and servants, Michelle and Lee eloped in the West Chapel of the castle. Publicly humiliated, Chester was forced to revoke his daughter’s betrothal to the Prince of Savile, and revoked Michelle’s own right to the crown. Disowned and condemned to live as a scullery maid in the castle, the young princess discovers she is pregnant just as her love is killed by Chester’s most trusted henchman, Dean. Hiding the truth from the woman and the kingdom, the murder is passed off as a hunting accident, and Michelle is forced to birth and raise her son on her own in the ramshackle cottage she had been banished to.

The years slide by, and Michelle raises her son, Gary, oblivious to the truth of his royal blood. Chester grows old and bitter up in the castle’s high towers, and Prince Charlie– a contrary, spoiled brat of a child– is poised to take his place. He is beheld throughout the kingdom as “The Fairest in the Land” with his sharp features, piercing eyes, and wickedly charming smile. But, unbeknownst to the castle, young Eggsy Unwin was growing up to a beauty all his own under the dirt and the rags. The servants and commonwealth hail him as an angel for his radiant looks, personal warmth, and staggering bravery. By the age of 15, he’s captured the attention of the royals, and is the envy of the Prince and King in equal measure.

Michelle remarries that year, after near a full decade of being chased by Dean, the man who replaced her late husband as the Master of the King’s Guard. She is soon pregnant, and the new baby is doted upon by Eggsy and her mother before things start to take a turn.

Dean is rough. He had always been rough, but that year marked the beginning of fear in the hovel they called home. He was drunk, he was yelling and beating his wife and stepson, smacking down resistance from the boy dedicated to his family. Soon, Eggsy began obeying his mother and taking Daisy to the courtyard when Dean came home. His beautiful face was often marred with bruises, and there was nothing to be done for it: Dean worked for the King. No servant spoke up to the king. Many of them had never even seen their illusive ruler.

5 more years passed on sluggishly, and the kingdom went into overdrive, preparing for suitor after suitor who came to present themselves to Prince Charlie, who’d reached marrying age, and was set to take the throne as soon as he was wed.

However, not only did few of the suitors last longer than a week, many of them were too captivated by the young man scrubbing the castle steps to pay the royals much mind. Eggsy appreciated the company, and his enchanting laugh was so rare now that anyone who could manage the feat would draw out many folks to hear it. The spunkiness and rough hewn charm of the scullery lad was magnetic to the weary suitors, tired of Charlie’s stuffy sensibilities and snobbish attitude.

Each suitor was sent away quite quickly after the King learns of Eggsy’s allure, and time ticks by for Charlie to find a husband or wife. Chester forbids Eggsy to be in plain sight of the suitors, then, and banishes him to the duties of the well and gardens in the courtyard, hoping to hide the beautiful young man from distracting the suitors, desperate to marry away the Prince.

—————

That particular morning, Eggsy woke to blissful silence for the first time in a long while, as Dean was passed out on the sofa, his mother already at work in the castle since dawn a few short hours ago. His cheek still ached from the smack he’d received the night before, and he rubbed absently at the spot for a moment, listening to the birds outside in the new morning. Daisy whimpered in her sleep, and Eggsy gave a quick stretch before checking in on his little sister in the bed beside him. He kisses her forehead and looks down on her sleepy little face, feeling his chest swell with love before the lovely little girl. Knowing he’ll have to wake her soon enough, he quietly slips out from under the covers, dressing in his usual, threadbare tunic and breeches, sliding into his worn out shoes and finally looking out the small window upon the new day.

The May weather was cloudless and blue, sending sunlight shining over the carriage house and courtyard. Colors were brighter and more vibrant than the clouds of April and chill of March, and Eggsy smiled at the warmth and beauty.

“Daisy. Flower Baby, it’s time to wake up.” he shook his sister’s shoulder gently, whispering so as not to wake the beast on the sofa. The little girl opened her mouth and let out a mighty yawn, making her brother chuckle as he pulled her up out of bed. “Come on, Little One. It’s a beautiful day, and you’re goin’ to help Ryan and Jay with the horses.”

Daisy was awake then, sliding on her little shift dress and bossing her big brother around their little, one room cottage, telling him she wanted the  _red_ hair ribbon today, not  _yellow_  and that one of the baby horsies is to start training today, and Ryan said maybe she could help. Eggsy barely got her to sit still long enough to wrap up her hair and give her a crust of bread, ignoring the ache in his own stomach. He’d eat something later.

Through some miracle, they get out the door without waking Dean. The sun warms their tired bones, and Eggsy takes his sister’s tiny hand as he walks her down to the carriage house, humming a little nonsense tune his mother used to sing. Now, it seemed like Michelle hardly spoke, let alone sang. The young man’s heart ached for it then, and he sang to carry a part of simpler times to Daisy.

The carriage house was a huge barn, and, as always, Ryan and Jamal were waiting at the big doors. Eggsy grinned as Daisy impatiently tugged him the rest of the way to their friends, and started chattering away to the two boys.

“Thanks, Mates. I can take her tomorrow, if it’s too much on you.”

“Don’t worry about it– besides, there’s a new suitor who came in last night, you’ll be workin’ overtime to get this place spic-and-span. We’ll take care of the Flower– yeah?” Jamal smiled down at Daisy. “We better get in there. This one’s chompin’ at the bit, huh Daisy girl?”

Eggsy bid his friends farewell, still humming as he left his sister in their care. He collected his bucket and scrub brush and mop, suddenly feeling weary, wiping a hand down his tired face. Still, he set to work to the rhythm of the birds that sang and twittered in the garden.

He didn’t really mind the work– the gardens were beautiful, full of asters and roses, delicate fruit trees that were bursting with flowers, and soft expanses of manicured grass between the stone pathways leading to the big well in the center. Vines crawled up the castle walls that lined the courtyard on three of it’s sides, and big, majestic balconies looked down on the gardens below. Eggsy sighed, taking a deep breath of the roses and warm breeze, setting to work watering the plants surrounding him.

As high noon approached, sweat was beading along his brow and darkness rimmed his vision. Now scrubbing the stones in front of the well, Eggsy stood from his sore knees, only to stagger back with the loss of his balance.

“Oh my– Are you alright?” a hand suddenly supported the small of his back, and Eggsy nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to face the voice that kept him upright.

Breathing hard and wide eyed in shock, the scullery lad took in the sheepish, undeniably  _regal_  man that had stopped his fall. A soft grin broke across the man’s face and Eggsy couldn’t tell if the flutter in his chest was from the heat and low blood sugar, or purely from the kind and handsome gentleman with the warm brown eyes gazing back at him.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He took a step forward, and Eggsy forced himself to get a grip, breaking into a smile of his own.

“It’s fine, don’t worry ‘bout it. I guess I’m a bit overheated…” The man’s eyes were fixed on him like he was the only point of light in a pitch dark tunnel, and Eggsy trailed off as he looked back into the soft gaze, feeling his heart pound a little in his chest. He was so  _beautiful_.

“My name is Harry Hart.” he gave a respectful bow and extended a hand to the younger man, only for Eggsy to gape at him. Many men and women had spoken to him as he worked since the suitors started coming, all of them baffled and mesmerized by Eggsy. There hadn’t been a moment in his life he could recall when one of them, nor anyone else, had actually bowed to him. Mentally shaking himself after a second of pause, Eggsy bowed in return, taking the hand only to feel a near electric shock at the way they slotted together so perfectly. Harry then bowed, raising the worn scullery lad’s knuckles to his lips, and pressing a tender kiss to the heated skin.

The blush in his cheeks must’ve made him look slightly insane.

Harry didn’t seem to mind. But, Eggsy still hadn’t replied. “And, what is your name?” he asked hopefully, with no hint of malice or annoyance.

“Eggsy– Well, Gary. But, no one calls me that..” he trailed off, biting his lip at the way he stuttered, his usual calm charm deserting him as he looked over the rich, navy blue tunic and satin cravat, the regal way he stood, poised and elegant, and the gentle swoop of his soft looking brown hair.  _Harry Hart_.

Eggsy looked down at his worn out shoes, suddenly aware of how out of his place it was to be talking openly to this man. Not after last time, when the King’s Guard saw him with a castle visitor– Lady Gazelle of the Valentine Empire– and told Dean.

Harry wasn’t having it, however, using a finger under his chin to tilt Eggsy back up to look at him. His brow furrowed in concern then, and he took the finger up to his cheek. Eggsy didn’t want to move, immobilized by the cool comparison of his hot skin and Harry’s cool, gentle hands, before flinching away as he pressed lightly on the bruise on the younger man’s cheekbone.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Are you  _quite sure_  you’re alright, Eggsy?”

“Yeah, don’t worry 'bout me.” he grinned a bit ruefully and Harry looked sad “So,  _Harry Hart_ : What brings you to Black Wood? I’ve never seen you before…”

“Yes, I… Well, I’m here to see Prince Charlie.”

“Oh, I’m sorry” he replied wryly before feeling his heart give out in his chest. Harry was a suitor. That meant he had to be a Prince, Eggsy spoke ill of his superior  _to a castle guest._  “I mean– I don’t wanna insinuate that– I’m so sorry.” It wasn’t until the blood stopped pounding in his ears that he heard the warm, deep sound of the older man’s laughter.

“Don’t you worry, Eggsy. I must admit, I feel quite the same way.” For a moment, Eggsy thought this had to be some sort of joke. Harry was baiting him, he was going to tell the King, Dean was going to finally make good on his threat to go after Daisy, Prince Charlie would have him put in the dungeons– “Would you mind if I join you? I’ve just come from an audience with the Prince, and I’m in need of some good company.” Eggsy gave a skeptical look, and Harry gave one of those musical laughs again “Not every beautiful face has the charm and kindness that you possess, Eggsy.”

“You think I’m good company?” he raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms only to lose his balance again, fumbling on the steps to the well before his rescuer put out a steadying hand once more.

“And you look as if you’re in even more need of a break than I am.” he added with a sweet grin, not moving his hand from where he’d steadied him at his waist. Eggsy couldn’t help his answering smile,  his heart pounding at the infectious quality of Harry Hart’s kindness.

“Alright, I suppose…” Harry beamed, offering his arm to the scullery lad like he wasn’t miles below him in class, covered in years worth of dirt, and bruised to boot. Eggsy took the arm then, flabbergasted.

“Where the Hell did you even come from?” He meant to say it to himself, only for the other man to chuckle and guide him down to a shaded bench on the outskirts of the garden.

“I’m the crown Prince of Savile Kingdom. We’re just through the forest and over the White River…”

He was perfect. Harry Hart, Crown Prince of Savile. Eggsy’s heart fluttered and he hung on the other man’s every word, quickly forgetting all manner of rank and decorum and let himself have a normal conversation with the man who was genuinely interested in what Eggsy had to say, stroking little patterns into his work-callused palm as they spoke.

—————

A week passed. Every day, without fail, Prince Harry would come to meet Eggsy by the well and walk with him to the bench on the garden’s edge. It was nothing short of love, and everyone seemed to notice. His friends raised their eyebrows at him when he dropped off Daisy, his mother smiled at him quietly when Dean couldn’t see it, recognizing the glow in his eyes and the new brightness in his smile.

But, it wasn’t all so beautiful. Dean noticed. Dean smacked him down until his head spun, trying to learn the name of the person that his stepson could be so attached to. The day after, when Harry got a glimpse of his bruised face and split lip, Eggsy had to beg him not to get involved.

“It won’t help anything, Harry. There’s nothin’ you can do– he’s under King Chester’s protection. _Please_ , Harry….” The older man pursed his lips like he was swallowing a lemon, cupping Eggsy’s face with impossible gentleness and concern clouded his brown eyes.

“One day, Eggsy. One day I’ll get you away from all this…” he held the boy close, and Eggsy let himself bury his face in Harry’s rich clothing, disappearing into his scent of vanilla and spices and something entirely unique to him.

Of course, what the King’s Guard knew, the King soon knew as well.

—————

“What seems to be today’s pressing issue, Guardsman?” Chester’s voice drawled from the shadows of his chambers. Dean straightened his hunched posture and scowled, clenching his fists.

“Our mutual  _friend_ ’s found 'is way back where he don’t belong, your Majesty. Folks all over sayin’ he’s got the suitor of the week wrapped 'round his finger, and….” Dean trailed off, going pale in the dark room, looking down at his boots.

“And  _what_ , Guardsman?” piped up the chiseled young man by his grandfather’s side.  

“It’s bein’ said that your- your boy’s not the fairest no more….” the silence rang in the chambers, tense and heavy with the Guardsman’s terror. Prince Charlie looked like he was about to be violently ill. Dean could barely hide the way his knees trembled under him in terror. And then King Chester threw his head back and laughed.

“Not possible, you imbecile. Shall we test this?” He stood to his full height, sweeping across the room in his kingly robes to the large, ornate mirror to the back of the room. He cleared his throat, speaking to the shimmering glass. “Mirror Mirror on the wall: Who’s the Fairest one of All?”

With a rush of wind, and a swirl of color in the glass, a disembodied voice echoed into the room.

“Your Majesty, it is known by all that Prince Charlie of Black Wood is truly Fair” the voice paused, and Chester’s pretentious smile faded to quiet horror and fury as the mirror continued “And yet, my eye sees another– marred by needless cruelty and smudged with years of hard labor, a young man of 20, I see… His skin, white as snow and delicate as china despite years of struggle, and eyes green and bottomless as the leagues of the sea. His radiant charm and bravery have won the hearts of every life he touches…. Gary Unwin is, far and wide, the Fairest of them All.”

“ _Show me the boy_.” Chester hissed, jealousy rising like bile in his throat, the rage blinding as he stared into the depths of the mirror. The scene soon changed to show a young man seated on a shaded bench, curled in the arms of a handsome older man who stroked his hand through his honey blond hair and whispered softly in his ear.

King Chester was lost to the fury of betrayal and fear for the future of the crown.

Whirling around, he faced both his grandson and his trusted henchman.

“Kill him!” Charlie shrieked, breathing fast and pouting like a child “Grandfather, he–”

“ _Yes_. I know, Dear Boy.” he snarled, fixing his cold gaze on his Guard. “Take the boy out with tonight’s hunting party. Separate him from the group, and kill him.” Dean nodded, a vicious smile twisting his face, turning to leave “You have not been dismissed. To ensure the deed is done, Guardsman, you will bring me back his heart in this.” The king revealed a small chest, thrusting it into Dean’s grasp and sweeping back to his place in the shadows.

“Now you are dismissed. Do not disappoint me.”


	2. Chapter 2

The cool wind that rustled through the forest would normally serve to loosen Eggsy’s tight nerves, but as he trailed behind Dean and the rest of the Guard, it only sent a shiver down his spine. The heat of the early summer sun had faded behind the line of dark, shadowy trees, and every corner seemed to hide some new peril. He was on edge, his bones seeming to chatter with his teeth, as it was just cold enough to be uncomfortable in his thin clothes. Goosebumps prickled his pale skin and Eggsy pulled his cape tighter around him, keeping close watch on Dean’s hunched shoulders.

The troupe galloped into the night, and the young scullery lad– out of his depth, and jumping at his own shadow– was too busy trying to keep up that he didn’t notice until it was too late. Eggsy didn’t know where they were. The rush of the White River echoed off to the far left, and the rocky outcrop of foothills meant the edge of the woods was near.

“You–” Dean called out to his most trusted man “You take these folks downwind o’ the river, an’ see you find that thicket we got to last time.” His voice rasped, and Eggsy was left with the question of where  _he_  was to go stuck lodged in his throat as his stepfather met his gaze with a snarl. “You’re wit’ me, Runt.” Eggsy ignored the swipe of indigence that leapt in his chest at the nickname, his bruises and split lip reminding him to keep his mouth shut and obey.

He nodded, guiding his horse to trot along after his stepfather as he headed in the opposite direction of his men, to a dense cropping of dark trees.

“Wh-What’re we lookin’ for, exactly, Sir?” he cursed the tremble in his voice, forcing himself to stay calm.

“We’ll know it when we spots it, Boy.. Perhaps best to get on on foot from ‘ere…” The idea of getting off his horse, in the woods where he was hopelessly lost and alone with the man who’d made his life Hell for 5 years was about as appealing as chopping off his own hand. But, his brain injected that Dean was also his only way back to the castle, seeing as he was hopelessly lost in the woods.

He dismounted his horse, and they both started searching for whatever Dean was looking for, Eggsy keeping a healthy distance, searching in the opposite direction to his stepfather. Until he heard a twig snap behind him. Close behind him.

He whirled around to see Dean, grinning like he’d finally cracked and lost his mind, dagger raised and glinting in the midnight moon. He backed up without thinking, hitting his back against a massive tree trunk. Eggsy operated on instinct, barely absorbing the danger through his blind adrenaline.

He kicked out, catching Dean in the knee with a sickening crack. The man cried out, dropping his weapon and snarling as Eggsy tried to get out from where he was pinned between Dean and the gnarled tree. Livid, his beet red face looking purple in the blue moonlight, the man took a meaty hand and pressed it around the column of Eggsy’s throat. His pulse beat wildly against his skin, dark spots popping in his vision as he gasped for breath, beating his fists against the broad chest and kicking out with all his remaining strength.

There came a time, however, when the appeal of giving up crossed his frazzled mind. The burning in his eyes as tears flooded down his cheeks and breath couldn’t get through, his limbs were haphazard and weak. “This’s from our good King Chester..” he heard it like he was underwater.

In one last effort, thinking of his poor mother, and little Daisy, and  _Harry Hart_ , Eggsy reached blindly up, gripping the first solid thing he could and pulling with all his might.

With a deafening crack, a dead, bone dry branch fell from the trunk and into Eggsy’s hand, gravity mostly guiding it down on top of Dean. Eggsy was sure that the branch hit him as well, registering it in the back of his mind while adrenaline took over. The shock and pain made the Guardsman cry out, loosening his grip on Eggsy enough the the young man could gasp in desperate puffs of air, relishing in the cool night air before trusting his instinct and bolting into the depths of the Black Wood, as far away from Dean as he could get.

Until he realized just how lost he was. He could no longer hear the White River, nor Dean and his men. It was just the calls of owls and the flap of bat wings in the shadowy labyrinth of trees, and Eggsy felt hopelessness grip his heart, ignoring the pain in his throat and pounding in his head.

He kept running, too frightened to stop. He stumbled and fell too many times to count, and ignored the stinging of his palms and face, his neck  _throbbing_ with the phantom pressure of his stepfather’s hand. He wasn’t sure for how long he ran, worn out shoes pounding the grass in time with the pounding of the blood in his ears, still gasping for breath, lungs aching with the night air. By the time he was too tired to run anymore, he collapsed to his knees, spent and traumatized and thoroughly exhausted. He let the darkness absorb the tunnel of his remaining vision, crumpling to the ground and drifting into a nightmare-ridden unconsciousness.

—————

The dawn came with a golden sun that shone down through the branches of the ancient trees of Black Wood. Birds sang in the canopy, and the grass was dappled to a mottle of green and gold. Shadows were no threat, trees swayed with a gentle breeze in the branches, making them creak and rustle in a soothing dance.

Roxy took a deep breath of the morning air as she led the line of her colleagues out of the door of their little cottage, heading into another long day of work with her trusted pickaxe hefted on her shoulder. Merlin took up the path behind her, followed in short order by Percival and Lancelot on their way to the mines. The path was familiar and soothing, she even caught Merlin smiling peacefully on the trek through the trees, passing the brook and the twined lovers– a massive tree from two oak saplings that grew into one– but their parade to the gem mines was halted when Lancelot cried out in confusion while passing the glen.

“Well, that’s a new one– do you reckon he lives in the Wood?” he stopped, pointing to the lump curled into the bed of grass. They stopped in their line, all peering over at the form on the forest floor, looking at each other with trepidation and curiosity. Roxy crept forward first, feet silent and graceful as she kept her hands curled around her axe– just in case– and padded into the glen, toward the form that looked more and more like a person the closer she got.

Swallowing the anxiety fluttering up her throat, the young woman crouched beside the boy, who was sleeping fitfully, curled in on himself and wrapped tightly in a well-worn cape. He shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, letting out a whimper that tugged at Roxy’s heart, and then she could see his face.

The first thing to catch her attention was just how stunningly beautiful he was, sunlight dappling a pale gold color across his milky skin and weaving streaks of warmth into his dark blond hair. His jawline worked, clenching and unclenching in his sleep, and his brow furrowed with his dreams. Roxy shushed him gently without thinking, and then stopped, surprised at herself for dropping her guard so fast in the face of a pretty, sleeping boy.

Then she saw the bruises. Patchworks of nearly healed yellow and red marked his cheek, his plump bottom lip was split with a rusted line of blood, and his knuckles looked worn and cracked. What really made her heart clench, however, was the deep, dark lines of purple and black wrapping around the slender column of his throat, looking fresh and very painful.

He didn’t appear to have a weapon on him, and he had clearly been through some type of ordeal. Roxy bit her lip, thinking for a moment before making up her mind about what to do with the poor kid.

Looking over her shoulder at her eagerly watching friends, she waved them over with a finger to her lips, not wanting to wake the boy. The men hurried over, breaking twigs under their boots in their rush. They all lean in close, crouching beside her and looking over the newcomer.

“Roxy, are we sure he isn’t dangerous?”

“He’s awfully delightful to look at, now isn’t he…”

“Yes, I guess.. once you look past the  _horrific bruising_ , James.”

“Would you all shut up?!” Roxy whispered hoarsely. “I need your help to get him back to the cottage–”

“ _What_?” Merlin replied, brow furrowed and mouth in a tight line “We’re taking this stranger home?”

“Yes, we are. He needs help, look at him!” she raised her eyebrow at the older man, gesturing to the sleeping boy who whimpered below them. Only she could notice the minuscule drop of Merlin’s disapproving mask as he heard the pitiful sound, but he didn’t reply, cut off by James’ grin.

“Come on, Grumpy! This pretty kid could use a warm bed.”

“Well, Merlin, he’s clearly been through something… We can help.” Percival piped up.  

“I’ll help you, Roxy– This kid’s coming with us, if Grumpy here likes it or not.” Lancelot grinned smugly at the scowling man, gently situating his hands under the unconscious boy’s neck and behind his knees, hefting him up into a bridal carry with a bright smile.

Merlin just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses the whole way back to the cottage. Percival opened the door for his husband, blushing happily when he winked at him. Roxy took it upon herself to ensure the little furball darting between their feet didn’t trip anyone up, crowding their little pug away from the commotion while the others decided to set the boy down in the front room, on the cushioned settee by the window. James grinned as he unwrapped him from his cape and lay it over him like a blanket before smiling back at his colleagues. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“You’re a bloody Dope, Lancelot.”

The smile sloped into a childish pout and the other man crossed his arms, glaring at Merlin.

“There’s nothing  _dopey_ with me, Merlin. I’m just  _optimistic_.” he smirked back. Merlin rolled his eyes, Percival laughed softly at his antics, and Roxy– ever the doctor of their little group– abandons the scene to grab the first aid kit and get a closer look at their unexpected guest.

They squabble meaninglessly behind her as Roxy focuses in on the damage, JB sitting less-than-delicately on top of her toes, and she took a clean washrag to the dirty smudges on the boy’s face and hands. She uncovers scratches and scrapes, splinters dug into the palms of his hands, and a cut at his hairline that had been hidden by dirt and dark blond locks that she stroked tenderly away. He shifted in his sleep, then, panting and whimpering for a moment before seeming to readjust. Roxy shushed him again, continuing to pet his soft hair for a moment, and re-wet the cloth, going in for a closer look at the dark rings of bruising around his neck.

He woke with a desperate gasp before she had time to do more than brush the dirt there, hand flying to his throat with a ragged sound as he bolted upright on the settee. Everyone jumped, Roxy dropping her rag and giving a surprised shout. The boy seemed not to notice any of them for a moment, taking deep, greedy breaths that became sobs. He curled in on himself, gripping tightly at his cape and squeezing his eyes shut, before he seemed to slowly notice where he was. Those heartbreaking tears and choked off gasps trailed away, and his brow furrowed as he looked first at the settee he was laying on, then up and slowly around at all of them standing at his makeshift bedside. His eyes were the clear green color of the sea after a storm, and the boy looked  _very_  confused and more than a little frightened.

“Wha–” he rasped, wincing at the pain in his disused throat. He cleared it with a flinch, holding the bruised skin tenderly “What th-the  _Bloody Hell_ is happenin’?” his voice was a hoarse whisper, and Roxy turned to Merlin, who she was sure would go to his grave denying the look of concern on his face as he stared at the newcomer.

“Merlin, fetch us some water, yeah?”

“I-I… Where am I?” the boy asked a touch desperately, a tremble in his wisp of a voice. Roxy smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“You’re at the edge of the Black Wood, down by the White River. We stumbled across you this morning, curled up in the glen, out like a light.” She placed a hand gingerly on his knee while Merlin returned with the cup of water. The boy took it somewhat suspiciously, sniffing at the clear water once or twice, sipping tentatively before taking a great gulp like he’d wandered the desert. “What’s your name?”

He took a few deep breaths, throat soothed from the cold water “Eggsy. You can call me Eggsy.”

She smiled at the funny name, but didn’t question it. “Well Eggsy, I’m Roxy. These fellas are Merlin, Lancelot, and Percival.” She gestured to each man in turn, getting an eye roll from Merlin, a little too aggressive of a wave from James, and the tiniest of smiles from Percival. “Don’t mind them: Merlin’s just got his knickers in a twist, he’s a bit protective of what’s his, James is– as far as we know– pretty harmless, and Percival’s just a little bashful at first– He’s actually one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.” Eggsy smiled a feeble grin, and Roxy reveled in the sweetness of the look. A yip cam from the little body on top of her boots, and she grinned, giving a chuckle as JB barked a welcome that their visitor. “And this is JB– he’s our vicious guard dog.”

That got some semblance of a laugh out of Eggsy, and he waved at the puppy looking up at him, smiling at the men around him, looking overwhelmed. “O-Okay, Hello gents.” He smiled a little broader, letting Roxy continue to clean him up with her washrag and gentle hands.

“Eggsy? Do you remember what happened to you?” She dared to ask after a few minutes of prodding the tender bruises and washing away the mud and blood caking Eggsy’s nailbeds.

He sighed and there was a tremor in the hand she was cradling in hers, pausing with her ministrations to look up at his beautiful face. His expression was absolute discomfort, edging at fear, and she was about to tell him to forget she asked when he took a trembling breath and spoke.

“It’s… It’s a bit fuzzy in bits. I was in the Wood, w-with a hunting party from my Kingdom. We were further out then I had ever been, I was  _nervous_ , I remember that I was n-nervous…” he paused, forehead creased and trying to think. Roxy squeezed his hand, and he graced her with a breathtaking, grateful little grin. It melted away fast, though, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “My stepfather– he separated me from the group…. I turned around a-and he had me up 'gainst this big tree… he-he tried  _to kill_ me…. said it was on the King’s orders.” he stuttered over his words, absently reaching up to his throat. “I ran, must’ve collapsed…. What if he goes after my family next? Why’d he order a hit on  _me_ , I didn’t…” realization dawned over his face and his features went sad and soft. “Harry. He found out about Harry… He’s probably worried sick, not to mention my mother.  _Shit_ …” Eggsy shook his head, tears glazing over his bright green eyes, and stood, collecting his cape and walking to the door, even getting his hand on the knob before Roxy stopped him.

“Eggsy, what are you doing?”

“I gotta get home– who knows what that bloody tyrant has been doin’ since I left!” He threw a hand in the direction of the door “Harry probably thinks I’m dead, I need to check on my sister, and my Mum’s gotta be out of her mind by now!” the tears fell now, and he rubbed at them, embarrassed by the outpouring of emotion.

“Eggsy, if the King is trying to kill you, you ought to lie low for awhile. Stay here with us, let us keep you safe. Not for long, just until you’ve healed.” she punctuated the word as Eggsy tried to hide his wince from talking for too long. She could see his resolve crumbling, but he still pointed to the door feebly.

“But, my family….”

“Will want you to be safe until you’re well enough to return.” She knew she got through, and Eggsy let out a long exhale, posture slouching and tired.

“Come and rest, Eggsy.” James prompted, surprisingly gentle for someone as aggressively kind as him “You’ll need your strength.” Percival nodded beside him, and the handsome young man obeyed reluctantly, coming back to the settee. JB tottled after him like he’d known the newcomer all of his little puppy life, managing to hop up and settle by Eggsy’s knee. That got another of those sweet, unassuming smiles out of the boy, and Roxy felt her insides warm up at the thought of having a guest for a little while.

“Roxy, may I have a word?” A deep accent came up beside her, and the feeble excitement in her chest deflated when she saw Merlin’s tight lipped look. Roxy rolled her eyes, but followed him to the nearby kitchen space.

“You don’t want him here, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t  _want_  him here, I just wish you would be more careful about harboring another kingdom’s fugitive–”

“ _Fugitive_? Merlin, he’s no older than me, Eggsy was nearly killed!”

“Precisely.” Merlin hissed. “I want the company as much as you do, Rox– it gets lonely, just the five of us, working so far from home. I just think we should take into account that the King in these parts isn’t too pleased with Eggsy.”

Roxy exhaled in a huff, hating how right her friend was. “Look at him, Merlin– Fuck the bloody King. Eggsy needs help, and I know you’re right but, that boy needs someone. It’s a miracle he didn’t die last night!” Eggsy was sitting, slouched against the setee as Percival took up the mantle of nurse, with Roxy’s washrag up to the young man’s neck while James distracted him from the twinges of pain by telling his one of his wild stories. He already looked at home with them. Roxy shook her head. “The King doesn’t need to know.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and sighed “Whatever you say, Rox. We gotta be careful, though– He shouldn’t leave the cottage. It’s only a matter of time before this bloke figures out his murder plan failed, and if he sends out a search party…”

“Alright, fine. Eggsy has to stay on the cottage property, that makes sense. He’s healing, anyway.” She looked back out to check on them, and sighed as she watched the newcomer’s first true laugh, stroking JB’s head in his lap and scratching at the pug’s tiny, velvet ears as he listened to whatever James was gesticulating so intensely. “Just  _try_  to get along, Merlin. You already like the kid, admit it. No more being grumpy.”

The older man rolled his eyes again, and Roxy bit her cheek against a quip about her friend getting stuck like that. “I’m a  _delight_  to be around, and you bloody well know it.” he drawled sarcastically, winking at her as they joined the others back in the front room.

—————

The sun shone across the gardens of the Black Wood Castle. The breeze buffeted the blossoms off of their trees and into the air, swirling along in lazy circles, drifting past the wishing well left unattended in it’s center.

Harry Hart stood, waiting, at the well. The sun beat down on him, adding to his fraying nerves stemming from the fact that he was  _alone_. Where was Eggsy? He was actually sweating in his light, royal gold tunic, designed for it’s breathe-ability in the slightly warmer climate of Black Wood. Gazing out over the neat patches of flowers and paths, he scoured every inch of the gardens with his warm brown eyes. He searched for any sign of the familiar, worn tunic, and the slight echo in Eggsy’s footsteps, from the separated sole of his old shoes. There was no glimpse of a bright smile or green eyes, no shock of gold and honey hair in the midst of the asters and cherry trees.

Eggsy had never missed a day of work. He was always here, scrubbing at the cobblestones of the well, waiting for Harry to take him to their bench in the shadows. Anxiety prickled up and down the older man’s spine, going through every terrible thing that could have happened to his love. His heart sank through his chest when he thought of all the bruises, the healing mottle of blues and yellows across Eggsy’s pale skin.

Suddenly, he had to move. It wasn’t enough to simply stand at the well and hope for the scullery lad to appear. Hurrying through the gardens, he walked and walked past the carriage house and pastures, searching everywhere, asking servant after servant what they knew about the handsome young man who tended the gardens.

“Oh Eggsy?” A young man named Jamal, leading the reins of a pretty foal at the pastures gave him a concerned look “I don’ know, Your Majesty. He drops off his baby sister every mornin’– never missed a day in his bloody life– but, today Michelle dropped off Daisy  _at dawn_. Tol’ me Eggsy didn’t come home last night… Little one’s still sleepin’. She’s too young to worry any more than to ask where her brother is whenever she wakes… I’m concerned, Sir. It ain’t like Eggsy to not be there for his Flower.”

That did nothing to soothe the panic under Harry’s thin veneer of regality. He nodded and thanked the boy, turning to go when a thought hit him.

“He didn’t come home last night? Where was he?”

Another boy, Ryan, made a face at that “They took him out with a huntin’ party at twilight last night– claimed to be one man short. Bollocks, if you ask me.”

“And why’s that?”

“Well, if anything, they got  _too many_  Guardsman. There’s three o’ them for every one of us common servants– King Chester hired 'em about ten years back, said the Crown needed protectin’. You ask me, the Crown’s  _too_  protected. They never even leave the castle!”

“Ryan, shush– you wanna get thrown in the dungeons again?” he friend scolded, but Harry shook his head.

“I have no allegiance to anyone– this conversation is, of course, in confidence.”

The boys were more help than they knew, and even pointed Harry in the direction of the Unwin family’s poor excuse for a cottage at the outskirts of the grounds. It was empty and dark, and only served to make the pit in Harry’s stomach that much wider and deeper.

Walking back through the corridors of the castle, Prince Harry tried not to think about the odd disappearance of his love, doing anything he could to come up with a reasonable explanation. He wandered the halls, listening to nothing and talking to no one.

Until he heard talk of a hunting party from behind a huge oak door. Recognizing the voice as King Chester’s, Harry was immediately pressing his ear to the polished wood, hanging onto every word seeping through the barrier.

_“And the boy?”_  came the reedy voice of the King, tense and cold.

_“Disposed of as y’ asked, Your Majesty.”_  a gruffer voice he didn’t recognize hit him then, but what he said was more pressing to Harry. Disposed of? What boy? His chest clenched at the idea of Eggsy being…

_“Bring me my proof, Guardsman. We’ll see if you have truly done as I asked.”_

There was the lumbering of graceless footsteps, and a long period of silence that got more and more deadly as time inched past.

_“You mean to pass this off as the heart of Gary Unwin?”_  Harry swore he stopped breathing at the mention of the name. The lethal silence passed on again, and then there was a violent clatter and a grunt of pain.  _“This is a horse heart, you worthless fuck! What happened to the boy?!”_

_“He-He was t-too bloody fast, Sir! I h-had 'im, I swear, I had 'im! Squirmed outta me grip at the last second– hit me wit’ a branch and fuckin’ disappeared!”_

_“Well, FIND HIM.”_ The silence was back again, heavy in the air as the Guardsman whimpered and Harry absently registered that his hands were shaking.

“Prince Harry–” he couldn’t hide that Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden, slippery voice behind him. He whirled around to face the haughty expression of Prince Charlie, heart pounding as his brain scrambled for purchase on the situation “What on Earth are you doing all the way down here?”

What on Earth  _was_  he doing down here? Harry swallowed, taking a covert deep breath and plastering on his most charming smile.

“Why– looking for you, Your Highness. What luck for us to stumble on each other here.” All suspicion melted out of Charlie’s face, and he gave Harry a grin that almost made him feel bad that he couldn’t truly love the young prince. Harry, desperately trying to get a grip on himself, offered Charlie his arm, quietly floundering about his poor Eggsy, lost in the Black Wood, running from the Crown.

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath, and promised himself– and Eggsy, wherever he may be– that he would find and rescue him. No matter how long it took, or how far away. He made empty conversation with the Prince he was supposed to be marrying, and thought about clear, sea green eyes to ground himself.  


	3. Chapter 3

A long week passed, and Harry spent his time getting closer and closer to Prince Charlie, eavesdropping on the King’s private council meetings when he could get away. With his ear pressed desperately to the huge, polished door, he listened for even the smallest scrap of news of his lost love. He needed to know Eggsy was safe, and yet, his chest clenched up with fear of what he could hear with his ear to the wood. He would breathe deeply and silently, praying to hear of some type of location where Egsy could be found, or– God forbid– where his body lay. The thought made Harry’s entire body tremble with worry and grief, wishing with all his might to take his horse and disappear after his love, wandering the woods with the hope of seeing those deep green eyes again.   
  


He knew, of course, that it would be a tactical disaster for him to do such a thing– potentially ruining his kingdom’s relationship with Black Wood, not to mention the senseless danger of running out into a dark forest with no form of navigation or understanding of the area. He’d be no help to Eggsy if he died before he could rescue him.   
  


The King also appeared to know nothing of the “traitor’s” whereabouts, which was both a blessing and a curse. Harry listened to Chester’s consultation after consultation with his mirror, coming up empty every time. Wherever Eggsy was, he was beyond the reach of the mirror’s influence. For now. The mirror could, however, tell whether or not the boy lived, occassionally. Harry lived for those days where he had some sort of proof of his love’s persistence to survive. He begged with any diety that could hear, just that Eggsy would hold on, because Harry would come for him. He would save him.   
  


When he wasn’t begrudgingly courting the Prince, or listening at forbidden doors, Harry occupied himself with wandering the gardens and grounds. He even took to checking in on Eggsy’s friends, talking to Ryan and Jamal in the pastures and listening to their stories of their mutual friend. Apparently, Eggsy once scaled the garden walls up to the Royal West Balcony just to tease the King’s Guard from the top. He also used to do flips along the banisters of the castle as a young child still working with his mother in the corridors.   
  


It made Harry feel that much closer to his missing love, wanting any connection he could get. Mention of the boy’s mother, however, made his heart sink like a stone, and he carefully questioned the two boys of how she was and where he might find her.   
  


Jamal shook his head sadly “Poor Miss Michelle– she ain’t left the house since she got the news of Eggsy’s goin’ missin’. It’s a wonder the King hasn’t had enough of it yet– he’d ‘ave sacked anybody else by now…”  
  


“She’s been keepin’ the lit'le flower close, too. We ain’t seen the sweet bugger for days– just sittin’ in that miserable lit'le house, goin’ out o’ their minds with worry an’ grief.” Ryan cut in from where he was brushing down one of the prize stallions “You’d find 'em there, I reckon.” Harry nodded sadly, looking off in the direction of the cottage at the outskirts of the grounds.   
  


“Do you think she’d mind my visiting?” He asked mildly. Jamal nodded non-committally.   
  


“Yeah.. I mean, she’s a wee bit spiky sometimes, I guess, but Michelle’s a good woman. I reckon she’ll humor you. Why’re you so interested in our Eggsy, anyway?”   
  


Harry floundered for a moment, giving a cough and a stutter, trying to think of something without coming out and saying it.   
  


The boys seemed to catch on fast, however, as Ryan split into a devilish smirk, sharing a look with Jamal’s raised brow and knowing eyes. They had seen how their friend had been behaving– Eggsy was humming to himself as he scrubbed down the well, and sniffing the flowers as he watered their beds. He didn’t even curl his lip too much at the passing Guardsmen. Eggsy was sweet on someone, but Jamal and Ryan couldn’t get a word out of him, not until the moment he left for the hunting party the night he disappeared.  
  


They watched the handsome gentleman– who had up until a moment before been dripping with regality– sputter, and they just knew who their boy had been so taken with. Harry gave up, knowing there was no escape. He couldn’t say it too loudly, but the two had proven trustworthy in the past few days, and he heaved a sigh, standing up straighter and collecting his dignity as he replied in a hushed whisper.  
  


“I love him. More than anything– you can’t breathe a word of this, gentlemen, I trust you know?” Harry met the stable boys’ gazes with an imploring look, and Jamal smiled after a second, nudging his more protective, skeptical friend. 

They shared a glance and a sort of silent conversation passed before Ryan seemed to consent to something.   
  


Jamal nodded at Harry “We’ll show you to Miss Shelle, yeah?”   
  


They passed the long walk through the grounds in silence, and Harry released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The tiny cottage on the outskirts, hugging the high palace wall, was barely a house. The walls were dirty, cobbled together with mud brick and wood, and the thatched roof sank in the middle. The overhang of branches and plants hid the house further, making it look more desolate. Harry felt his heart clench at the sight of how his love and his family had to live.   
  


“This is it, yes?” He asked, whispering for some reason he didn’t know, looking at his companions. Jamal gave a sad smile and a shrug.   
  


“Well, we ain’t all gotta castle, Yo'r Highness.” Ryan scoffed, leading the way up to the knobby old door without preamble. His stomach did flips unlike anything he had felt in years, and Harry wiped his palms against his breeches as Ryan gave a gentle knock. It thumped and rang in his ears, and prehaps Harry hadn’t thought this through– he was about to meet Eggsy’s mother. He didn’t want to overstep any bounds or embarrass Eggsy.   
  


He swallowed when the light sound of footsteps was heard, and a muffled woman’s voice saying “Just'a mo”. Harry was a bloody  _Prince_ – he’d faced much worse than worried mothers– and he was doing this for Eggsy. Maybe Michelle had some insight on where her son might go when he was scared or alone. Harry didn’t want to even think about it. He just wanted his love at home and in his arms.    
  


The door creaked open just a crack, enough that Michelle Unwin– a pretty woman with tired eyes and a familiar-looking split lip– peeked her head out to look at them. Her blue eyes were red rimmed and wet, and one of them was swollen with a bruise, maybe two days old. Harry remembered the horrid Guardsman who loomed over this poor family, and he swallowed the swell of anger and concern in favor of nodding in greeting to the woman.   
  


He was just about to introduce himself when Michelle’s eyes landed on him and widened almost comically.   
  


“Y-Your Highness..” She opened the door all the way, ignoring the dangerously unstable creaking sound it made and throwing herself into a low bow. “Prince Harry, what can I do for you?” She said as she rose, still not looking him in the eye, although she shot questioning, irritated glances at Ryan and Jamal.   
  


“Just a moment of your time, Mrs. Unwin– as long as, of course, you aren’t preoccupied?” he asked mildly, taking in her worn out, simple dress, and the little girl that had scampered up to hide behind her legs. Michelle, still wrapping her head around the situation, sputtered for a moment before stepping away from the doorway, carefully herding her daughter back as well and gesturing for the men to come in.   
  


“I’m awfully sorry– it’s in quite a state… h-have a seat anywhere you can find, I suppose.” She sounded dreadfully nervous, and Harry made sure to send her his most genuine smile as he perched on the worn out sofa with a “thank you”.   
  


He had barely sat, however, when the little girl with massive blue eyes and strawberry blonde curls came bouncing up to him. He smiled, having heard so much about little Daisy.   
  


“Hello– you must be Daisy.” he murmured, taking her tiny hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She squealed with laughter, running away to hide between Ryan and Jamal, who still hung in the door.   
  


“Boys, would you mind takin’ our flower out for a walk?” Michelle cleared her throat and smoothed her dress. “She needs some fresh air.” Ryan looked disappointed at the idea of not staying to hear what Prince Harry had to stay, but Jamal only tugged him away by his tunic and reached out a hand to the sweet little girl. The door creaked shut behind them, and only then did Michelle turn back to look at him, offering him something to drink.   
  


“Oh, no thank you, My Lady. I am here to discuss your son, and I’d like, also, to ask you a very important question.” Michelle looked like she had been punched in the gut at the mention of her boy, and stumbled into the chair across from Harry with a ghostly white face and wide eyes.   
  


“You– You wann’ to talk 'bout Eggsy?” She exhaled and deflated with it, tears back in her red rimmed eyes. Harry didn’t hesitate to reach out and hold the woman’s work-rough hands in his own, trying to calm the distraught mother.   
  


“Yes. I have reason to believe that…” the words stuck to his tongue, the idea of giving this woman hope when he could not truly guarantee her son’s safety giving him pause “.. that your son is alive in the Black Wood.”   
  


Michelle stopped breathing for a moment, but then her eyes filled with suspicion “How? What could possibly be your proof, your Highness?”   
  


“There’s a mirror. It resides in the King’s chambers, and he consults it…”   
  


“Every morning. _Mirror Mirror, on the wall_.. I know it.” Michelle nodded, her tears overflowing as she squeezed Harry’s hand. “Did-did he have my Eggsy run out?”   
  


“I believe he intended to have him killed. Your son is a brave young man.” he gave her a sad smile, which she returned through her haze of relieved crying. He licked his dry lips, hoping beyond hope, not only that this woman would be able to help him, but that he would be able to follow through for her and bring her son home. “Which brings us to why I am here: Eggsy is in the forest, somewhere beyond the mirror’s reach, but, I hoped that you would be able to tell me if Eggsy has any experience in those woods, and if there’s anywhere he might know of to go.”   
  


Michelle looked taken aback, flicking her eyes up and down over Harry, as if she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hope “You… You wish to go after him?” Harry only nodded earnestly, trying with all his might to gain this woman’s fleeting trust. After a long moment, she took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes, thinking hard, before opening them and locking her gaze back on Harry “When he was a lad, I-I took Eggsy down by the White River. He was no more than a baby… shit. ’M sorry, your Highness, I’m trying really hard.. I just don’t remember Eggsy having much experience in the Black Wood.” she sighed, hopeless tears that he didn’t think she was quite aware of slipping down her cheeks  "I mean, I remember 'em. My nurse would take me out to the glen all the time, as a little girl…. but, with all this.. My boy would never know what to do out there. Eggsy had his childhood ripped away.“ She sounded so tired and wistful, Harry couldn’t help but grip her hand a bit tighter, almost missing Michelle’s odd wording.   
  


"Mrs. Unwin, I’m sorry, but… did you say you had a nurse as a child?” Only children of the truly highborn had nurses– Harry had had one, all lords and ladies in court had had them, as well as their children. It made no sense for a laundry maid living on crumbs on the outskirts of the castle grounds to have had one. “Michelle, are you of noble blood?”   
  


Her eyes went round with panic, and her expression spoke for her. Harry huffed out a shocked sigh, looking at the hovel around them. The floor was packed dirt, the single, lumpy mattress sat in the corner like a tired old man, hunched and creaking on its wooden bed frame, and there were mysteriously blood-like stains on the sofa, in the filth coating the walls, on Michelle’s threadbare dress.  
  


“How on  _Earth_ did you get here?”   
  


“You say that as if it’s difficult.” her voice had a new edge to it, although her lip was trembling. “I lived in that bloody castle for 17 years. I obeyed, I learned, I curtsied, and smiled on command. For  _what_?” she scoffed, and Harry got the feeling that Michelle had wanted to say this for a very long time, even as he was still putting the pieces together. He remembered a long time ago, when he was young, he was promised to the Princess of Black Wood, until he was informed of her highness’s untimely and sudden death. “I was goin’ to get shipped off to marry a stranger! I was a– a bargaining chip! My father didn’t care 'bout me… I married for love.” She looked worn out and broken as she calmed herself, wiping at her eyes and taking shuddering breaths. Harry just held her hand, equal parts mystified and uncomfortable with the situation. “There was my flaw. And they killed my husband, cast me out and stripped me of my crown… I had to beg the King to r-return as a bloody laundry maid… by then, of course, I was p-pregnant, and…”   
  


She trailed away to silence, and Harry just sat across from her, unsure of anything to do but hold her hand in both of his.     
  
“ _Please_ , bring my boy home, your Highness.” she broke the hush of the space with a crushed whisper “He was all I had for  _so long_ , he’s my  _baby_ …”  
  


“I will, I promise on my life, Michelle…” He regretted the words the moment he said them, of course. But, his voice seemed to soothe her, and she squeezed his hand in hers, bringing it up to her mouth and pressing her chapped lips to his knuckles as she reduced back to tears.   
  


As he straightened up to standing, smoothing out his tunic and adjusting his cuffs, a fresh sense of purpose thrummed through his veins. He sighed, taking a deep breath of the musky, stale air, and felt invigorated with the pumping adrenaline and new determination. He swallowed his inhibitions and cleared his throat.   
  


“Before I take my leave, Mrs. Unwin, I do have one last request of you.” He waited to ensure he had her full attention before continuing. “I have had the immense pleasure of knowing your son for all of the time I have been at Black Wood Castle– I love him dearly, and, with your blessing, I request his hand in marriage upon our return from the forest.”   
  


Michelle did nothing more than raise an eyebrow, looking Harry up and down, as if trying to gauge his sincerity, but the edge of a smile curled her mouth.   
“Bring my son home alive and well, Prince Harry. If he chooses you, my blessing is yours.”   
  


He left the broken down little house with a grin, and a breathtaking amount of hope making his heart light. He returned to his chambers, his mind racing to think of all the potential strategies he could take to find and bring his love back home.   
  


—————  
  


Living at this cottage wasn’t so bad, Eggsy supposed, as Roxy took him upstairs to find a place for him to sleep. The secret cabin looked small, but it was deep, with comfortable lodgings for about seven people, if the rooms were doubled up. There were four bedrooms, and Roxy led him down to the end of the corridor with a smile as they reached the last one.   
  


“This will be where we put you, I believe.” The young woman swung open the oak door and slipped inside, holding it for Eggsy to follow– still shaky on his feet from the night before’s ordeal.   
  


“Oh  _wow_.” He couldn’t help but sigh, surprised as he took in the space. Roxy grinned.   
  


The room was small, but cozy and clean, with mild yellow walls and sturdy, elegantly carved wooden furnishings. It was flooded with natural light from the large window by the bed– Dear God, _the bed_. Eggsy gaped. It was just as beautiful as everything else, a hand carved four poster frame, the mattress was dressed with a soft quilt and a downy pillow. The impoverished scullery lad couldn’t remember a single time when he was permitted to live somewhere so clean, and warm, and dry– let alone sleep in his own bed.   
  


“This was to be Percival’s quarters, when he first joined us at this post. He and Lancelot, however, had different plans– it’s stood empty for years.” Roxy’s amused voice cut into his thoughts, watching him drink up his surroundings with a slack mouth and wide eyes. “We do occasionally take in a weary traveller, of course. People like you– although, I can’t say we’ve ever had a visitor so lovely.” Her laugh fluttered and it was a kind sound. It somehow reminded Eggsy of Daisy, and he felt his excitement mellow out to sadder, more guilty places. His sister would have loved it here. This was the type of place where she and his mother belonged, not in their hovel at the outskirts of the Castle grounds. He sighed and turned to look at Roxy earnestly.   
  


“Thanks. Really, Rox, thank you for your kindness.” He gave her a bittersweet smile, and her own smile slid into a concerned expression. She didn’t press the subject, though, and Eggsy loved her for it. He wiped a hand down his face, the aches of his journey taking their toll on his body.   
  


“Of course, Eggsy. It’s no problem at all.” She came to stand just in front of him, taking another glance over his bruised neck and the cut in his hairline. Her cool, slightly callused hands felt good on his face as the girl examined him once more. “You’re sure there’s no concussion, no severe internal pain, or bones broken?”  
  


He shook his head lightly– while there was no serious damage, his brain was throbbing– and gave Roxy a small smile that might have been more of a grimace.   
  


“Alright.” She stepped back with a nod “I’ll let you get settled then– bathroom is to your left, and Percival and I will be downstairs if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to ask.” Roxy informed him as she stood in the threshold.   
  


Eggsy felt safe with her– she was capable and intelligent and kind. The relaxing aura of the cottage, Roxy’s sweet smile, and the sunlight warming the room brought waves of sleepiness over him, overshadowing the growing throb in his head and the ache in his muscles. He nodded to her as he sat himself down on the edge of the bed, which suddenly looked even more inviting then before.   
  


“I 'preciate it, Rox. Thanks.” He tried and failed to hide his yawn.   
  


She huffed a laugh and told him to get some rest, closing the door behind herself. Eggsy was left to flop down into the bed and fall asleep thinking of a warm, regal voice, and the smell of cherry blossoms on the warm wind.   
  


So passed a long week. Eggsy and his hosts fell into a steady routine of quiet life in the Black Wood. It was beautiful, full of lush new greenery that heralded the coming summer, and dappled sunshine that pooled in glens of warm light, drawing woodland creatures from all over to bask in it. And Eggsy had nothing if not time to relax. It was driving him steadily insane, if he was honest.   
  


Every morning, the miners would leave him in the cottage to do a day’s work in the gem mines down the river. At least one of them– usually Roxy or a begrudging Merlin– every morning without fail, would approach Eggsy and check his neck and other injuries. The process was painstaking, not to mention frustrating. He was practically imprisoned in the cottage, unable to leave 50 paces from the front door until he was healed and ready to leave them. He understood, knowing that they were technically harboring a fugitive by coming to his aid, and wanted to protect him, but the walls were starting to close in for Eggsy.   
  


If, he thought, there was something better out there for him– something that could get him home to Harry and his family sooner, because he missed them– Eggsy told himself he would take it, but he was getting awfully comfortable with his mysterious caretakers. They were charming and kind, each in their own way, and they reminded him of Ryan and Jamal and even Harry.   
  


He loved how James would treat him so gently when he had to be the one to check his wounds, saying “It would be a fate worse than death to harm a beautiful creature like you”. He loved how Percival would smile, but still blush just a little at the sight of him, and how JB would run about his feet in the mornings. Roxy was tougher and more strategic than 99% of the King’s Guard at home, and they could discuss nearly anything until the moon was high in the treetops. Even Merlin, surly as he was, soon took Eggsy under his wing. It was a subtle and quiet type of affection, but it was the type that brought Eggsy to smirk and tease, bringing him back a bit more to who he was before he was nearly murdered. He wouldn’t go anywhere, because he was beginning to love these charming strangers. But the ache in his heart to see his family, and to see Harry again, was becoming a crushing feeling in his chest.   
  


It wasn’t until the evening of the seventh day that it became a topic of conversation.   
  


Eggsy sat on the front stoop of the idyllic house, eyes closed against the last of the day’s sunlight, JB curled up on his bare feet after a long day of Eggsy’s playing and teasing the little puppy. The handprint-shaped bruises on his throat had faded from black and purple to a mottle of reddish pink and slight shades of yellow, but he could speak without pain. He thought of Harry in the dwindling light, a sense of warmth slipping around his heart like an embrace. His smile, and the soft, deep tone to his voice when he told Eggsy he loved him. The way he held him that fateful day that Harry had seen how Dean had hurt him, and held him while he cried, murmuring promise after promise of stealing him away from his life as a scullery lad. He’d told him about the sea, and the way the sunlight glimmered on the water and matched Eggsy’s eyes, and how much he would love the Kingdom of Savile.   
  


Eggsy didn’t want to open his eyes, not even when the sound of James’ jovial whistling and Roxy’s laughter reached his ears through his thoughts. He wasn’t in Savile, safe with his love. He wasn’t even home with his mother and sister. But, he grasped onto the memory and held tight, and smile all his own curving his lips and filling him with light.   
  


“G'Evening, Lad.” Merlin gave him the hint of a smile as they reached the door. Eggsy stood to greet them, smiling back with all the dreaminess and bubbly warmth of someone thinking about their love.  
  


“Eggsy, what’s the grin for?” Roxy asked, her face still sweaty and smudged with dirt from a long day of work. He shrugged with an involuntary purr of a noise as he and JB led the way into the cottage.  
  


He heard Lancelot scoff behind him, a cheshire grin punctuating his words “Oh, Dear Roxy, that’s not a smile for a what, but rather a  _who_ …” Eggsy turned to face them, leaning on the kitchen table and trying to keep his smiling in check.   
  


He failed, quite spectacularly.   
  


“Well, well…” Merlin smirked “I suppose now is when we ask the lucky one’s name?”   
  


Eggsy let his coy smile split into a grin once more as a freeing little thought dawned on him.   
  


In the walls of the castle grounds, he and Harry were forbidden to talk about each other or discuss their feelings with anyone except each other– in the interest of preserving both Eggsy’s safety and Harry’s reputation in Royal circles.   
  


But here, out where there were no Guardsmen, or jealous Princes and tyrannical Kings to overhear, Eggsy realized that he was free to say as much as he pleased. His elated smile was glowingly beautiful, lighting up his face in a way that the miners had never seen before.   
  


James lit up just at the grin on their young visitor’s face, ushering him to sit back over on the settee and tell all. Roxy indulged him as well, pulling Percival to sit by her as they got ready like children waiting for a bedtime story. Even Merlin was roped into it, James tugging him down to sit beside him with a slightly maniacal grin. That just made Eggsy laugh, a little giddy between the elation of finally being able to tell someone about his love, and the blind hope of someday being able to see his Prince again.   
  


He couldn’t think of a way to start, all his friends’ eyes blinking up at him. Eggsy had so much to say about Harry– he couldn’t quite find the words.   
  


“Urm, Well… It’s a bit weird to be able to talk 'bout it, and all. In my Kingdom, it’s forbidden– I’m just a lowly little scullery lad, and he… He’s a  _Prince_.” Eyes widened around the circle. Eggsy’s heart gave an ecstatic little leap in his chest at finally getting to say it all out loud, and he ached to have Harry beside him right then. “I miss him somethin’ awful.”  
  


James aww'ed and Percival gave a sigh. Eggsy felt the blush creeping up his cheeks, but couldn’t be bothered with it, thinking of his love and how wonderful it would feel to be back in his arms again.   
  


“What’s his name, Eggsy?” Roxy asked, all of them eager for details. The lovestruck scullery lad felt his lips curve into another dreamy smile, looking down at his hands in his lap bashfully as he replied.  
  


“Harry. Prince Harry Hart of the Kingdom of Savile Row.” Eggsy loved the feel of Harry’s name and title on his tongue– he had been unable to say it for so long, and the sweet sound of his love’s name made the young scullery lad feel warm and safe.   
  


Eggsy let himself be wrapped up in the memories that flowed through him with stating Harry’s name. All the thoughts of him– the feeling of his soft, elegant tunics, and the scent of warm cinnamon and scotch; the way the tip of his thumb would stroke along his jawline as he looked into his eyes, and Eggsy would gaze back into his. It was so peaceful, the way the rumble of his voice could soothe even the deepest of Eggsy’s aches– brought the young man back to his love, and the comfort of being in his arms. He had promised to take him away, save him and his family from the horrors of Dean and the King.   
  


“Prince  _Harry Hart_?” Roxy’s incredulous tone cut into his reverie, and Eggsy looked around the room to see his friends’ faces reflecting various levels of shock and confusion.   
  


“Urm, yeah. Wh-What’s the problem?” No one seemed able to reply, and a pit of fear tightened in his throat, making even the softest of his memories fade. Eggsy looked back over to meet Roxy’s wide eyed gaze. He was starting to regret telling them. He could feel his heart breaking, but Eggsy just set his jaw against their expressions and prepared to argue if he had to. “Is this… Is this 'cos I ain’t highborn?”   
  


“No, no Eggsy. It’s…”  
  


“We can help you!” James bubbled up from his seat on the floor, his face curling up into a beaming smile– a sharp juxtaposition to the looks of blank shock still on all the others. Lancelot looked like a puppy wagging his tail, and Percival put out a hand on his arm to get his husband to stop, but James just stood and moved beside Eggsy on the settee.   
  


“James, is this wise–?” Merlin cut in, only to be ignored.   
  


“He’s our  _Prince_ – Savile Row is our kingdom, we mine the crown jewels!” he looked so brilliantly ecstatic, and Eggsy grinned back mostly out of courtesy as he wrapped his mind around the new information. Until it finally dawned on him that this was his way home. “Write to him, I’ll– Percy, grab us some parchment and a pen?– I’ll get it sent. Our messenger pigeon will find him, and you’ll be home with him in a snap!”   
  


“James, you’re bloody brilliant!” Eggsy felt like his heart might swell until it burst out of his chest. He could go home. His grin threatened to split his cheeks, until he surveyed the crowd of his friends.  
  


Roxy, at least, looked tentatively pleased. She smiled– a little sadly– at him, and cleared her throat, about to say something when Merlin cut in.   
  


“Isn’t this a touch underplanned? Aren’t you forgetting something very important?!” he enunciated every word to James like he was a small child, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. No one responded for a long moment, and the Scotsman rolled his eyes and sighed “The boy’s a bloody  _fugitive_!”  
  


“That doesn’t mean I love him less– I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing to get the King on my arse–!” Eggsy deflated under the sense of betrayal, and Merlin got right in front of him, gripping his shoulders and looking him in the eyes with his intense gaze.   
  


“I know, Lad, it has nothing to do with you’re loving the Prince, or what you did– I’m trying to protect you. Anyone can intercept a letter, this isn’t safe!”   
  


“I don’t care about my bein’ safe, I need to get  _home_! I’ve wasted enough time with my family in the hands of that bloody tyrant– I’ll do  _anything_ , Merlin.” Eggsy let his desperation bleed through at the end, hating the way the tears burned in his eyes. The older man exhaled a long, slow breath as the fight drained out of him, and Eggsy felt him stroke a callused hand over his hair as soothingly as he could manage.   
  


“I’m sorry, Eggsy.” he murmured “We’ve all gotten to be quite fond of you– we just want to know you’re alright.”   
  


“I jus’ want to see them again…” Eggsy trailed off, a warm wave of comfort tingling through him as Merlin stroked his head, and James still sat beside him with a hand on his back. All the tension melted away in less than a second, and the scullery lad sighed out a long breath and smiled as Percival returned with the parchment and pen.   
  


“You will, Eggsy. We’ll get you there.” the bashful miner blushed and smiled back. “Love is worth everything.” He shot a look in James’ direction, winked at Eggsy, and the miners dispersed to their own business, occasionally looking back to their young guest as he settled down to write a letter to his love.   
  


—————-  
  


_My Darling Harry,_   
  


_First– I’m safe. Tell my mum and Daisy for me? I’m not so sure what I did to deserve this shit, but I know I’ll be okay if it means I can see them (and you) again._   
  


_I got found by a group of miners in the wood, far down the White River. I think I’m east of home, at least. The group that took me in claim to know you, say they mine the gems for Savile Row. If you know what they’re talking about, my Love, come get me. I’ve never needed someone like I need you, and my life’s been empty these past days without you. It’s a cottage on the riverbank, and Roxy says we’re a few night’s ride from home. I’ll light a candle in the front window for you, Harry._   
  


_I love you. Hurry up._  
\- Eggsy   
  


The dead carrier bird lay crumpled on the stone floor of King Chester’s Royal Chambers. The letter, penned with haphazard, scribbled writing, was gripped tightly in his knobby, wrinkled fingers. Chester couldn’t stop the clench of fear that seized his chest, even as he grinned in triumph– Eggsy was not only alive, but in the care of a neighboring kingdom, no doubt spreading slanderous lies about Chester’s kingship. But, he won’t for long. He knew where the boy was hiding, and soon, so would his Guard.  
  


“Bring Dean to me, and tell him to ready my horse.” he nearly growled at the steward by the heavy door. “There will be no mistakes this time. I will do the bloody deed on my own.”   
  


Chester stepped over the mangled bird, dropping the slip of parchment as he moved to action. The young steward nodded without meeting his steely gaze, going to duck out to follow his orders. At first, he reached for his trusted dagger, before catching a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye. “Stop. Wait.” the old man demanded, making the boy pause. A thought struck Chester, and he looked over the bowl of gleamingly red apples by his mirror. “Stop by the apothecary in your travels, and bring me the strongest poison in stock. Now, you are dismissed.”   
  


He dressed humbly, disguising himself as a beggar, cane in hand, barefoot and covered in patches. Chester flicked a worn hood over his head, and met his stallion by the palace gates under cover of night. The steward boy looked visibly shaken, a light blue vial clutched in his hands as he presented it along with the basket of ripe, red apples. Chester frowned vaguely, noting the color of the poison being a bit different than his memory– but, he had no time for these thoughts.   
  


Mounting his steed, Chester rode off into the dark woods, only thinking of finally ridding himself and his family of the living proof of his daughter’s betrayal. Eggsy needed to die if order in the royal line would ever be restored. 


End file.
